Classic Poem

Abide with us; for our dear Lord is gone
And we are left in this bleak world alone.
But who shall dare to murmur, Ichabod,
While Thou art with us, Spirit of our God?

O Holy Comforter, with us abide:
Are we not of His suffering sorrowing Bride?
He pleads in heaven: in answer to His prayer
Vouchsafe Thy presence here as He is there.

We need Thee, or the morning dews too soon
Are dried and lost before the sultry noon;
But spring Thou up within our heart always
A fount of penitence and prayer and praise.

We need Thee for the world is lapp'd in sleep;
Thy voice must wake them: we can only weep.
Come, Light of life, and breathe Thy quickening breath
In hearts o'ershadow'd with the gloom of death.

Come, Lord, to us in this Thy mercy's hour,
Come in Thy plenitude of grace and power;
No wayfarer be Thou, no transient guest,
But ever here vouchsafe to reign and rest.

O Spirit of the Father and the Son,
Thou in the everlasting glory One,
We worship Thee, we love Thee and adore,
The Lord of life, our life for evermore.